


Like (Vegan) Chips & Dip

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: AKA Jonah [9]
Category: Glee
Genre: Babies, Canon Jewish Character, Custody Arrangements, Custody Battle, Friendship, Gen, Legal Guardianship, Milestones, Preparing For Court, Talking About The Future, Teenage Parents, Vegetarians & Vegans, mild flirtation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 03:56:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8474419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: Puck needs a little distraction before the scheduled court date.





	

Puck puts Joel down in the Pack ‘N Play and looks at the clock. It’s too early in the evening by far for Joel to be out for the night, but Puck probably has a good two hours where Joel won’t be distracting him. Most nights, Puck wouldn’t mind that, but this isn’t most nights. Puck knows he’s been lucky to have most of the summer without worrying about his mom and her bid for custody of Joel, and overall, Puck’s had a lot easier of a summer than he expected. 

Still, the next day, he and Joel have to go into a courtroom, along with Burt and the lawyer, and his mom and her lawyer will be there, and Puck knows it’s going to be messy and one of the least fun things he’s done in a really long time. Kurt had offered to distract Puck, though he hadn’t called it distracting outright. Puck had said he was fine. 

Puck knows he’s not fine, not really, but all Kurt knows of Puck’s mom is the last few months. Even though Puck doesn’t want to talk about the next day, he wants people who understand a little more. What he wants is, he knows, a little selfish. He wants Finn _and_ Rachel there, and sometimes he wants to kick himself for that conversation with Kurt that made him even start thinking about it. 

A year ago, he would have probably just texted Santana or someone else, with the intention of having sex to take his mind off whatever was bothering him, but he knows that’s not the best idea now. He’s pretty sure the people who would agree to have sex with him aren’t the people he’d want to have sex with, which is a little irritating. The people he’d want to have sex with… Puck knows that list is smaller than it once was, by a lot, and no one on it would say yes to him right now. More than that, he has to admit that it’s not what he wants.

He’s not any kind of martyr though, no matter whether it’s a good idea to want what he wants or not, so he pulls out his phone and sends a text to both Finn and Rachel. 

_Can you come over?_

Maybe it’s weird, maybe it’s asking too much of other people or not enough of himself, but mostly he wants both of them there, even if no one ends up saying anything. 

_Sure what’s up?_

Puck plays with the phone for fifteen or twenty seconds before responding to Finn. _Tomorrow mostly_

_I’m already at Finn’s, but of course we can!_ Rachel sends quickly enough that Puck suspects she was already typing it out on her flip phone before Puck’s came through. 

It takes the fifteen minutes or so that Puck expects before he hears Finn’s truck outside, followed by a couple of knocks, the sound of Burt answering the door, and then finally two sets of footsteps coming down the basement stairs. 

“Hey,” Puck says quietly as they become visible from his perch on the middle of the bed. 

“Hey,” Finn says, matching his volume to Puck’s. “Jonah sleeping?”

“Yeah, it’s after dinner nap time,” Puck says, and Rachel giggles. 

“I think Burt was having that, too,” she says. 

“Possibly,” Puck agrees, grinning a little. 

“You guys ready for tomorrow?” Finn asks. “Do you have a tie? Mom was really worried you didn’t have a tie.”

“I live with Kurt Hummel. Did she forget that?” Puck shakes his head. “I have a tie, and Joel’s got an outfit and a spare.” 

“Kurt didn’t try to get you in a three-piece suit or anything, did he?” Rachel asks. 

“If he thought about it, he didn’t tell me. Probably smart.” 

“What color is the tie?” Finn asks. “Mom’ll ask. You know she will.”

“‘Muted steel’,” Puck says, quoting Kurt. “Which I think means blue-grey, ‘cause that’s what it looks like to me.” 

“That sounds nice. Very mature,” Rachel says. She tiptoes past the Pack ‘N Play, even though Puck’s told her not to worry about it before, and sits on the edge of the bed, near the foot. 

“It’s all pretty surreal,” Puck says. “I don’t know about mature.” 

“But they aren’t making you change your name, right?” Finn asks for probably the eighth or ninth time. 

“I don’t think they’d even _let_ me, since it’s guardianship and nothing else,” Puck says. “And that’s assuming they don’t think Mom’s petition has ‘merit’.” 

“Of course they won’t,” Rachel says, almost automatically. 

Finn shakes his head vigorously back and forth. “No way. She doesn’t have any kind of merit.”

“On the outside, it looks like she’s kept it together as a single mom. That she’s kept us fed and clothed and all of that,” Puck says. “What if she finds, like… our eighth grade social studies teacher to talk about me. Remember her, Finn? She hated me!” 

“She won’t,” Finn says, putting a hand on Puck’s shoulder. 

“She could try,” Puck insists. 

“If you need character witnesses, I’m sure my dads could drop by the courtroom,” Rachel offers. “They could even call more people from the synagogue!” 

“Dueling character witnesses?” Puck asks wryly. 

“I’ll be your character witness. I’m really, like, respectable and stuff,” Finn says. 

“You’re still a minor, Finn,” Rachel says. “But that’s really very sweet of you!”

Finn shrugs. “Well, yeah. I’m a good friend. That’s what a good friend does.”

“I think that’s going above and beyond,” Rachel says. 

“Plus they’re probably going to think you don’t have the qualifications to determine if I’m parenting well or whatever,” Puck says. “Courts are picky, from what I can tell.” He falls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. 

“I _do_ think you’re parenting well,” Finn says. 

“Of course he is,” Rachel agrees. “If I were your lawyer, I’d point out that you’re exceeding the example that was set for you.” 

Puck turns his head towards Finn, raising his eyebrows. “Uh.” 

“She means it in a nice way, dude.” Finn pats Puck’s shoulder. 

“Okay,” Puck says, shrugging a little. “Distract me now.” 

“I could tell you about the auditions next week for the community theatre production of _Footloose_!” Rachel says. “We could all audition.” 

“ _Footloose_ has lots of dancing, right?” Finn asks. 

“No, no, only the main male lead has to dance well,” Rachel says. “And there are some disapproving parents, as well.” 

“I could be a dad,” Puck says. “Typecasting?” 

“But they all dance at the end,” Finn says. “You made me watch it. They all dance at the end.”

“Finn, they dance at the end of a lot of the movies I suggest for movie night,” Rachel says. “And no, Noah, you don’t have to be cast as a dad.” 

“Finn could be a dad. Dads don’t dance, I bet.” 

“Plus, I’m tall,” Finn says. 

“So you’ll both come with to the audition?” Rachel asks expectantly. 

Finn pats Puck’s shoulder a little more aggressively. “I’m in if Puck’s in.”

“Uh, I’d literally have to have a baby in a musical,” Puck says. “That’s probably a no.” 

“You could ask?” Rachel says. 

“We could come support you at auditions?” Puck counteroffers.

“I’ll clap really loud,” Finn says. “The loudest.”

“Boys,” Rachel says with a disappointed sigh. 

“So much clapping,” Puck says. 

“We’ll be the best supporters,” Finn agrees.

“You could bring snacks for immediately after, I suppose. I can’t eat before an audition,” Rachel says. “Well. That’s all the news I have. Finn?” 

“I got nothing,” Finn says. “Sorry. Rachel used up all the interesting news.”

“We do live in Lima, I guess,” Puck says. “Uninteresting news?” 

“Mom got a bunch of fish sticks on a two-for-one coupon, so we have like ten boxes of fish sticks in the freezer,” Finn says. 

“I like fish sticks. Dinner at your house tomorrow night,” Puck says. “Kurt made something two nights ago that he said was fish, but I don’t know. It was really… Jell-O like.” 

“Meat Jell-O?” Rachel says, sounding a little queasy. 

“Dude, did you explain that fish shouldn’t come in Jell-O form?” Finn asks. 

“I tried, and I think Burt agreed with me, but Kurt made that face,” Puck says, pausing to demonstrate, “and said I was uncultured.” 

“Mad or sad?” Rachel asks. 

“You uncultured swine!” Finn says, and Puck laughs. 

“He’s been scrupulous about the swine,” Puck says after a moment. 

“That’s so nice!” Rachel says. “Probably sad, then.” 

“Nothing worse than fish Jell-O and Kurt’s sad face,” Finn says. 

“I’ll eat vegan Jell-O while Kurt looks sad over changing a diaper,” Rachel says. 

“Let’s make her the Kurt-wrangler,” Puck says in an exaggerated whisper to Finn. “Any time one of us makes him sad, she can sit with him.” 

“Or _on_ him,” Finn stage-whispers back. 

Rachel laughs. “I don’t think he’d enjoy that very much.” 

“We’ll keep changing all the diapers out of sight,” Puck says. 

“But only if you say yes to the Kurt thing,” Finn says. 

“I think I’m being ganged up on,” Rachel says, but she laughs again, and Puck relaxes a little more, his back sinking into the mattress. 

“It’s like a factory. You know, everyone does what they’re best at,” Puck says. 

“Like how I’m the best at not dancing,” Finn says. 

“Supporting. You’re the best at supporting,” Puck says. “Frame it in the positive.” 

“Oooh, where’d you learn that?” Rachel asks. 

“ _Toledo at Sunrise_ ,” Puck admits. 

“The morning show with the cooking and the book reviews?” Finn asks. “My mom watches that.”

“So does Kurt, and there’s only one TV,” Puck says. “It’s better than _Judge Judy_.” 

“Maybe you and Kurt could compromise on, hmm.” Rachel stops and purses her lips. “AMC? Something on HGTV with an attractive male host for Kurt?” 

“You could watch _American Chopper_ reruns. He might like the old ones with Paulie,” Finn says. “It could remind him of Burt, maybe. Like him and Burt working on cars together.”

“Yeah, I don’t think anyone’s going to be lusting after Paulie, or wanting father/son home improvement, at least, so we can’t get ‘em mixed up,” Puck says. “As long as there’s nothing with a psychiatrist or a self-help guru.” 

“No _Supernanny_?” Rachel says. 

“She’s the worst,” Puck says. 

“She’s _mean_!” Finn says. 

“I was only joking!” Rachel insists. 

“I guess it’s lucky that Kurt and I can team up against Burt in the evenings,” Puck says. “I bet he’s happy tonight. Uninterrupted _Ice Road Truckers_ marathon.” 

“Wow. Sounds fun,” Finn says, not sounding even a tiny bit like he thinks it sounds fun.

“I bet it’s nice to live somewhere with less snow,” Puck says wistfully. 

“Los Angeles has less snow,” Rachel says. 

“Miami,” Finn suggests. “Ooh, or Hawaii! I bet it never snows in Hawaii.”

“On the volcanoes,” Rachel says. “Apparently some of them are quite tall.” 

“Hey, let’s all skip town with Jonah and go to Hawaii,” Finn says. 

“You could probably play football for the University of Hawaii,” Puck says. “What are they again? Rainbow or golden or something.” 

“Rainbow Warriors,” Finn says. “Do you think they have a theatre program? We could _all_ go to the University of Hawaii.”

“Probably,” Puck says. “And hey, Rachel?” 

“Yes?” 

“Probably Joel’ll be potty-trained by the time we get to Hawaii.” 

“Awesome!” Finn says. “We’re going to Hawaii!”

“Finn, we can’t—I mean, we’d—it’s not a bad goal to _strive_ for, I suppose,” Rachel says. “Goodness.” 

“I’ll major in… I don’t know, I can figure that out later,” Puck says. “Not early childhood or whatever it’s called.” 

“I could be a P.E. teacher,” Finn says.

“You could be a regular teacher, too,” Puck says. “Kindergarten or something.” 

“Oh, that’d be adorable!” Rachel says, nodding. 

“Or a pineapple farmer,” Finn says, “or a dolphin trainer.”

“You sunburn too easily,” Puck says. “You don’t need to be outdoors all day.” 

“Noah does have a point,” Rachel says. 

“I could wear a hat while I dolphin train.”

“We are not putting aloe on you every night,” Puck says, then mentally winces when he realizes just how all of this could sound. 

“I would wear lots of sunscreen,” Finn says. “Plus the hat.”

“You’d forget,” Puck says. 

“Of course you’d have good intentions,” Rachel says, “but Noah still may have a point.” 

“Well, I think we should keep it on the table for now,” Finn says. 

“Train the dolphins to play football,” Puck says. “That’d be unique.” Joel makes a sleepy-sounding squeak, and Puck starts to sit up. The evening so far feels like a dream space or something, the three of them talking and making plans so optimistic that Puck knows he should be telling himself that they won’t happen. He’s not going to college. If he’s lucky he’ll leave Lima. Probably Finn and Rachel will never realize what he wants, and he and Rachel are definitely not going to be splitting the aloe-ification of Finn on a regular basis. 

Still, it was what he needed, and sitting between them, Puck has to fight the impulse to lean over and kiss each of them in turn. Maybe just the top of Rachel’s head or her forehead, and Finn’s cheek, but it’s still something he has to talk himself out of doing. He shakes his head slightly to clear it and looks over at Joel. “He’ll be up in another couple of minutes.”

“He’ll need a diaper, which means Rachel should go up and get us a snack so she isn’t in the diaper zone,” Finn says. 

“I’m so glad the two of you asked for a vegan snack!” Rachel says as she slides off the bed, smiling at both of them. 

“Rachel,” Finn says, sounding a little frantic. “Rachel! Chips are vegan, Rachel. Just get chips!”

“I think Kurt has some of that vegan dip,” Rachel says as she walks up the stairs. “Be right back!” 

“I’m pretty sure there’s nothing called tofu dip here, at least,” Puck says.

“She could just get plain chips,” Finn says sadly. “Just plain old chips.”

“I mean, Kurt probably _would_ buy those weird vegetable chips,” Puck says as he stands up. “I think he heard your voice, ‘cause he’s looking towards you.” 

Finn’s sad look immediately turns into a big smile. “Heyyyy, Jonah! How’re you doing?”

Joel doesn’t exactly respond, but he does start babbling and squeaking. “He says he’s ready to party with you, I think,” Puck says. He scoops Joel up and walks over to Finn, depositing him with Finn before going back to put the changing table part on top of the Pack ‘N Play. “No party like a three month old baby party.” 

“Wow, he’s a whole three months?” Finn asks. “That went _fast_!”

“Or slow when it’s two am,” Puck says with a shrug. “Last week I had to start putting more formula in each bottle.” 

“Were you hungry? Huh? Were you so hungry?” Finn asks Joel, holding a foot in each hand and making Joel’s legs kick in time to Finn’s words. 

“He’s trying to get taller.” 

“He thinks tall is normal, Puck.”

“Huh? You’re the only tall one,” Puck says. “Bring him over here so we can get the diaper over with before our vegan snack.” 

“Chips are vegan,” Finn says, moving Joel’s legs again. 

“So is seitan, but—” Puck stops as Joel makes a noise he hasn’t heard before. “What the—what was that?” 

“He laughed!” Finn says. “Like, for real!” He moves Joel’s legs again, and Joel makes the noise again. “See? Laughing!”

“Is Finn funny?” Puck asks, grinning at Finn. 

“I’m the funniest,” Finn says. He picks Joel up and carries him to the changing table. Halfway into the diaper change, though, Finn lets out a yelp. 

“Did he pee?” Puck asks. 

“On my shirt!” Finn says. “I waited too long to change him, then I didn’t do it fast enough.”

Puck laughs. “Did it do the really high arch?” 

“All over my shirt.”

“Rookie mistake, dude.” 

Finn snorts. “Well, we’ll know better for the next one, I guess.” He starts snapping up Joel’s pajamas again. 

“Uh,” Puck says, blinking a little and thinking it’s probably good Finn isn’t looking at him. He’s not sure where the ‘next one’ would come from or why _they_ would need to know better, at least in Finn’s mind, and making a joke about Finn knocking up Puck’s non-existent girlfriend doesn’t seem like the right response either. 

“You got a shirt I can borrow?”

“Uh, yeah,” Puck says, pulling out one of the four identical McKinley Football t-shirts he owns. When he turns around, Finn’s shirt is halfway off, and Puck thinks about looking away for less than a second before he decides there’s no point in that. Finn clearly doesn’t mind if Puck looks, so Puck walks closer. “Throw that one into the bathroom floor.” 

“Okay. You tag in for Jonah,” Finn says, taking the shirt and pulling it over his head, then balling up the pee shirt and trying-and-failing to three-pointer it through the bathroom door. He makes a little noise of disappointment as he stands and kicks the shirt into the bathroom. 

“Your godfather’s not a basketball star,” Puck says as he picks Joel up. “He probably should just quit the basketball team.” 

“I’m not terrible!” Finn says. 

“I just said you weren’t the star, but you are a little bit terrible,” Puck says. “You have trouble with double dribbling.” 

“Yeah, but I couldn’t say I was good, because that would be lying, so not-terrible was the next closest thing,” Finn says. “I have a traveling problem, too.”

“And shooting.” 

“I can pass.”

“Yeah, you can rebound, too, but you have an advantage there,” Puck says. 

“I also set a McKinley record for the most personal fouls in a season,” Finn says. “I keep telling Coach that I can’t help it. I’m a people person. I’m just naturally drawn to people.”

“Like I said, maybe just quit the basketball team,” Puck says as the basement door opens again. “I bet Rachel agrees.” 

“With what?” Rachel asks, her voice carrying. 

“Finn quitting the basketball team.” 

“Oh, yes, he should,” Rachel agrees. 

“But my record,” Finn says. 

“You only have a record with fouls, I thought,” Rachel says. “And fouls are bad. Aren’t they?” 

“Well, _yeah_ , but I’m the best at them!” 

“Goodness,” Rachel says, finally appearing with a tray in her hands. “Well, here’s our snack. Tortilla chips, black bean dip, and pop.” 

“Hey, it’s all vegan, but it’s good,” Finn says. “Thanks, Rachel.”

Rachel looks like she can’t decide whether to laugh or smile, and Puck laughs. “What you really want to do there is smirk, I think,” he says to her. “You had that planned all along, didn’t you?” 

“Me?” Rachel says too innocently as she sets the tray down. “Oh, and a bottle for Joel of course.” 

“Aww. That’s so thoughtful,” Finn says. “Don’t you think so, Puck?”

“Yeah,” Puck says, and for the second time, he has to suppress the urge to kiss the top of Rachel’s head as he picks up the bottle. “No bean dip for Joel yet.” 

“In a couple months he can have it,” Finn says. 

“You’re changing _that_ diaper,” Puck says, and Rachel makes a face. “Sorry, Rachel.” 

“I’ll change it in a different room. Different floor, even,” Finn promises. 

“Excellent,” Rachel says. “Now, I hate to bring it up, but Noah, you’ll let Finn and I know tomorrow as soon as you’re done with the hearing?” 

Puck pauses, half-sitting down with Joel and the bottle, and nods, then finishes sitting. He props Joel and the bottle between his legs with one hand and manages to grab a pop with his other hand, which means he doesn’t have to immediately say anything else. 

“We can come over, too, if you need us,” Finn says. “Or leave you alone after. Either way.”

“If it goes really bad, you’ll have to kidnap us,” Puck says after another long drink of his pop. 

“We could kidnap you anyway!” Rachel says. 

“I’ll go through all the camping stuff when I get home,” Finn says, nodding his agreement. “Just in case.”

“I know nothing,” Puck says, and he would put his hands up to show his innocence, but he realizes they’re pretty full. “But yeah, I’ll text you or something.” For all his joking, if the news really is bad, he knows he’d probably get Kurt to do the texting. 

“Cool. Yeah,” Finn says. 

“Excellent,” Rachel says, looking relieved. “How long do we have before Burt sends us home?” 

Puck laughs. “No idea. I still don’t have a curfew, so it’s up to your curfews.” 

“If we’re really quiet, maybe everybody will forget about us,” Finn says. 

“There’s the small matter of your truck, Finn,” Rachel points out. 

“Maybe they’ll tow it?” Finn says. 

“Or maybe Burt just won’t look outside,” Puck says. “That’s probably easier and cheaper. Anyway, Kurt’s the light sleeper, not Burt. If we make it through Burt going to bed, we’re probably golden. My fake-brother is bribable.” Puck’s not exactly sure when his request for distraction turned into an attempt to have a coed sleepover, or why, but he’s not going to complain. 

“Aw, he’s not your fake brother. He’s, like, your adopted brother,” Finn says. “It’s good you can bribe him, though.”

“It’s funnier if I call him my fake-brother,” Puck insists, and Rachel laughs, seemingly at both of them. 

“I don’t really have a curfew either,” Rachel says. 

“I kinda do,” Finn admits, looking sheepish. “I just mostly ignore it.”

“You mean, your mom brings it up a few days later to make sure you do your chores?” Puck asks. 

“I _try_ to be on time,” Finn says. 

“Uh-huh,” Puck says, grinning widely. “Okay, you want to burp the little guy?” he asks Finn. 

“Sure!” Finn holds his hands out for Joel.

“I could burp him!” Rachel says. 

“He spits up sometimes when he burps,” Puck says as he hands Joel over. 

“Oh.” Rachel tries not to make a face, watching Joel closely. 

Finn puts Joel up against his shoulder and pats his back until a decent-size burp comes out. “Not this time, though, don’t worry.”

“Yeah, you already changed shirts once,” Puck says with a snort. 

“What happened?” 

“Pee,” Finn says. “Jonah’s, not mine.”

Puck tries not to laugh for at least five or ten seconds before he gives in. “You had to clarify?” 

“I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea!” Finn says. 

“Why would she? Are you two into some kind of kinky shit and holding out on giving me details?” Puck asks, still laughing. 

“Noah!” 

“Eww, gross, dude!”

Puck keeps laughing for at least another minute before he pokes Rachel’s shoulder. “Joel totally peed all over his shirt. It was right after he laughed.” 

“Joel laughed?” Rachel asks. 

“Yeah, for the first time!” Finn says. “Or the first time I’ve heard, anyway. It was so cute.”

“Bring him over here, we’ll see if he’ll laugh again for her,” Puck says. “He thinks Finn’s funny, see.” 

“Because I am. I’m the funniest,” Finn says, carrying Joel to Rachel and holding him out. He holds Joel’s right foot in one hand and jiggles it. 

“I didn’t say he was wrong,” Puck says quickly, just before Joel starts laughing again. 

“Oh!” Rachel laughs a little herself. “That’s adorable, Joel.” 

“Isn’t he the cutest?” Finn asks. 

Joel laughs more, and Puck nods. “Yeah, ‘cause he looks like me.” 

Rachel laughs along with Joel. “Oh, Noah.” 

“He does look like you, though,” Finn says. “I didn’t really think so at first because he was still so red and squishy-looking, but now that he’s got a real baby face, he looks a lot like you.”

“See? He’s the cutest ‘cause he looks like me,” Puck says smugly. 

“Like you and your giant ego,” Finn says. 

“Ego, schmego, you still said he was cute, and that he looks like me, so that means I’m cute,” Puck says. 

“You can say ‘ergo, I’m cute’,” Rachel stage-whispers, still laughing a little. 

“Is ‘ergo’ like ‘ego’?” Finn asks. 

“No, it’s Latin,” Rachel says. 

“No, it’s a baby carrier,” Puck says. “I know that much.” 

“Is it?” Finn asks. “It’s a baby carrier? Like, a Latin one?”

“It’s a Latin word,” Rachel says, looking confused. 

“It’s one of those front-and-back carriers,” Puck says. “Like a backpack. But they’re super-expensive.” 

“Do you need one of them?” Finn asks. 

“Nah, they probably have, you know, knock-off versions or something,” Puck says. “But I don’t think they’re Latin. Wouldn’t that be…” Puck frowns. “Roman? Italian?” 

Rachel shakes her head. “I think the Latin word and the origin of the baby carrier are unrelated, boys.” 

“It seems like maybe you need one,” Finn says. “I’m gonna talk to Mom about it.”

“I can get a baby carrier at Walmart!” Puck says. “I don’t need an airplane seat car seat or a fancy baby carrier either one, it’s just that people online really like to talk about car seats and carriers.” 

Finn frowns. “But if the airplane seat car seat is better…”

“I think it’s just fancier,” Puck says. 

“Pucker—er, Puck,” Burt’s voice calls down the stairs. “You still got visitors?” 

“Yeah,” Puck says, making a face. 

“Well, it’s probably time for people who don’t live here to be heading home,” Burt says as he appears. “Rachel, Finn.” 

“Of course, Mr. Hummel,” Rachel says, standing up and smoothing her skirt. 

“Yeah, sorry Burt,” Finn says. He hands Joel to Puck. 

“Tell ‘em good night,” Puck says to Joel, and Joel’s fist flails a little. “See, he’s waving.” 

“Good night, Joel,” Rachel says. “Sleep for your daddy!” 

“Yeah. Night, Puck. Night, Joel,” Finn says. He puts his hand on Rachel’s back and steers her towards the stairs. 

Puck sits on the bed with Joel, watching the two of them, and when they’re about to disappear, Rachel turns her head. “Don’t forget to let us know, Noah!” she says, then all but their feet are out of sight. Puck can hear the basement door shut, and he looks at Joel. 

“Back to just you and me for now.” 

 

Puck has about thirty seconds after he wakes up before he remembers what day it is. That explains why he’s awake before Joel, and when he checks the time, he winces. No wonder he feels tired still. It’s late enough that he knows there’s no point in going back to sleep, though, so he quietly goes into the bathroom for a quick shower. When he’s finished, he puts on a clean pair of basketball shorts and sets up Joel’s bathtub. It’s probably better if both of them are clean. 

A bottle and a bath later, Puck eats the protein bars he’d stashed the afternoon before, to avoid having to make breakfast conversation, and then looks at Joel. “Which of us should get dressed first, huh?” Joel doesn’t make any noises or babble, but he does grin, which makes a little drool roll down his chin. “Yeah, okay, me, so you have less time to soak the bib.” 

Kurt had insisted on going shopping for clothes for court, which was a good idea, but Puck had insisted that his own not be as expensive as Joel’s. They can say Joel’s were a gift, but Puck knows his mom would tell her lawyer to claim Puck is relying on ‘charity’ if his clothes look too nice. Still, his clothes fit and he has a tie and doesn’t look too much like he’s going to a funeral, which is what Kurt had said when Puck had suggested black pants instead of grey ones. 

Puck puts a bib on Joel, because he wasn’t joking about the drool, and listens at the bottom of the stairs, diaper bag over his shoulder. He thinks he hears the kitchen sink going and the clang of the dishwasher, which makes it relatively safe to head up. He’s distracted himself as much as he can with getting the two of them ready, anyway. 

“‘Morning,” Puck says preemptively as he opens the basement door.

“Good morning,” Kurt says. “There’s breakfast, if you think you can eat.”

“Probably not,” Puck says. He puts the diaper bag down and turns towards Kurt. “But we look presentable?” 

“Oh yes, you look very nice!” Kurt says, wiping his hands on a dish towel. 

“But not too much like it’s faked, right?” 

“No. You both look good,” Kurt says. “Sit at least. Drink some orange juice. No, wait. Hang on for a second.” He pulls out his phone and snaps a few pictures before pocketing it again. “Okay. Now you can sit and have some juice.”

“You can’t, I don’t know, make a Facebook album,” Puck says as he sits. “‘Puckerman Goes to Court’ doesn’t even sound like a good kids’ book.” 

“It’ll be nice to have a record of this day later, though,” Kurt says. 

“Maybe,” Puck says skeptically, picking up the glass of orange juice that was apparently waiting for him. “Door was closed last night, right? He didn’t wake you up?” 

“It was fine.”

Puck figures he probably broke some kind of fake-brother rules by telling Kurt he didn’t want to hang out and then having Finn and Rachel come over, but he sort of asked with the door thing, and Kurt didn’t say anything, so Puck decides to leave it for the time being. He finishes the orange juice and stands up to put it in the dishwasher. 

“Okay,” Puck says after he clears his throat. “Let’s go, I guess.” 

Court is exhausting and boring, and Puck is glad that at least the lawyer managed to get the guardianship petition folded into the hearing about Joel. His mom doesn’t say anything to him before court starts, which is definitely good, but he can hear her whispering to her lawyer sometimes. She looks surprised when Joel’s name is read, which makes him wonder if she had filed all of her documents with something stupid like “Baby Boy Puckerman.” 

The last thing the judge asks is for both Puck and his mom to give a brief statement about why they’re there or whatever, which the lawyer had at least warned Puck that that might happen. He stammers through half of what he’d thought about, decides the rest of it isn’t relevant, and then sits back down, still holding on to Joel as Joel mouths his shoulder. The judge announces the decision will be made after a short recess, and Puck sighs. 

“Hear that, little guy? Just a little more waiting.”


End file.
